Thresholds

There’s a moment.

A moment that follows as you bounce down the cracked sidewalk in your new black blazer and heels, hair tied back in a sensible pony tail, with a large leather bag for various portfolio pieces slung over your dominant arm-a moment that finds you in the gentle summer breeze, in the bright sunlight, about a hundred uneven steps away from an ever temperamental parking garage.

A moment that you have hoped for for quite some time, a moment that when it presents itself…you aren’t quite sure what to do.

The moment I am describing is the rush, the excitement, and the uncertainty that follows a very solid second interview for what could very well be your first full time, “big kid” job.

The “moment” might hit at different times for different people. For me, that moment happened roughly one year and one month after I had graduated. And it is a moment that brought different feelings and emotions than what I was expecting.

This full time position, shall I get it, would allow me to move out of my childhood home…for good. My bedroom would finally become the cozy upstairs craft room my mom has been planning for since I started college. I would get back into the routine of being responsible for everything again: dishes, garbage, vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing, sweeping, and bills. My boxes filled with college apartment memorabilia would see the light of day again in a new apartment, one not shared with my dad, my mom, or my baby brother.

This full time position, shall I get it, would bestow upon me increased responsibility and work load.  Days of flexible scheduling as a part time employee in retail will become a thing of the past, and the occasional late night hanging out with friends, watching movies and talking into the wee hours, will lessen more than they already have since graduation.

This full time position, shall I get it,will add and create new challenges for our relationship. Not only will we have 120 miles between us, but coordinating our schedules so we can see each other will provide us with a new test. I can’t help but factor how this new job would affect us-you have become such an integrated part of my life, that plans regarding the future include you in them. Not with a specific label, but just a mutual part of something I shall simply call “us”.

What if it’s not a good fit like I think it is? What if I become some crazed career woman? What if I fail?

Despite all these thoughts, I feel an odd sense of calm and peace. Like a popular pop song which said, “I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, saying hey-o-gotta let go.”

And earlier today, I did just that. I threw my hands up (possibly literally, I cannot recall) looked the bright blue sky right in the eye (figuratively) and simply said, ” I don’t know what You have planned. If this is meant to be, help me so it can be. If it is not meant to be, help me see the beauty of why it wasn’t. Either way, whatever You decide-just please help me do my best. Either way-its Your call, Big Guy.”

(or something like that)

So, for the time being, I await at a threshold. Not sure if I will cross it and enter a new step of my life, or if it will tease me for a few months longer.  Either way, though, I am actually, honestly, extremely okay with the outcome. Whatever it may be.

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Gatsby and Me

“Classic’ – a book which people praise and don’t read.”  – Mark Twain

About a month ago, Baz Luhrman (the master mind behind the love-it-or-leave-it movie musical Moulin Rouge!) took a risk and embarked on an artistic journey as a director and brought F. Scott Fitzgerald’s classic novel to the big screen. Naturally, Lurhman was greeted with praise and criticism alike, with individuals surprised by the accuracy the film held in reflection of the book to other fans disgusted with certain choices regarding the score and visionary aspects. Either way, the film made headlines and has done quite alright despite the mixed reviews.

The last time I really spent any time with Fitzgerald was my junior year, in a high school English class. I like to think we read the novel and then watched the film version with Robert Redford, but my memory is fuzzy and all I remember was the green light, a pair of ever watching eyes, and a frantic red head cutting her hands on a broken window pane. However, I also remember liking Fitzgerald more than most of the authors we had visited that year, and sitting out on the deck at home those early summer months reading This Side of Paradise, so naturally I was rather excited to see the new film.

I would love to sit and discuss the movie’s winning moments and debatable flaws, but I write for another reason.

I write on behalf of the individual that apparently didn’t realize The Great Gatsby was first, indeed, a book.

kurt what gif

 

Seriously.

Taylor Swift what gif

Make that individuals, actually.

nathan fillion gif

Now, some may have a very good reason for not knowing that The Great Gatsby is indeed a book. Perhaps they are from developing country, or they are three years old, or they have literally been living under a rock for the past 80 years or so. Irregardless, this book is on every high school reading list for the summer or part of the core curriculum, so even for teenagers who are too busy to actually read the texts on the list should at least recognize that the titles are indeed pieces of literature.

Anyway, this got me thinking about classic works of literature, books in general, and writing, and how they are all connected. And how, as an aspiring writer (with a slight lack of discipline and frequent cases of writer’s block), I really should read more. Not just the classics, but books about subjects that interest me. I should just read for my overall human betterment, especially as a writer.

Not reading for a writer is like jumping into a race car with no knowledge of manual transmission. Not reading for a writer is like attempting to salsa before one has mastered the simple crawl. Reading is exercise for writers, strengthening us into better writers word by word. Reading is research and learning, not just about the world around one’s self but about one’s self.

So, my goal for this summer (among the many other goals and activities I have committed to) is to read more, so in essence, I can write more…and better.

“If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” –Stephen King